


Candy Cane

by firesign10



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Barebacking, Bottom Jensen, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Dream Sex, Holidays, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Stripper Jared, Top Jared
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 10:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8887612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firesign10/pseuds/firesign10
Summary: Jensen's resigned to a lonely Christmas, although it's not completely without cheer. Besides, a hot new neighbor moved in, and Jensen is dreaming about all kinds of sugarplums from Santa...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my December SMPC.

The wind swirled around Jensen, tossing his scarf into his eyes. Snow dusted the sidewalks, just enough to make it a little slick, so he had to slow down and walk carefully. Arms full of grocery bags, he managed to waddle up to the front door of his apartment house and catch the door before it closed behind Mrs. Armbruster and her chihuahua.

“Goodness, Mr. Ackles, you do seem to be dropping a bit of snow everywhere,” she groused snootily as they stood together in the elevator. Hyperia, the chihuahua, looked just as snooty in her little red jacket and white scarf, her bulbous eyes disapproving.

“I'm sorry,” Jensen said politely. “You see, it was snowing outside, so...” He let his words trail off.

“Well, good day,” she said, and together Mrs. Armbruster and Hyperia disembarked on the third floor, leaving the elevator to Jensen.

He rolled his eyes after they left. Christmas was coming, but you wouldn't know if from people like her. He'd bet she never gave Bob the doorman, or Madison, the girl who walked Hyperia, a holiday tip. 

Jensen got out at the fifth floor, juggling his bags in order to get his keys out. So of course he dropped them. 

“Son of a bitch!”

“Do you need a hand?” A light baritone voice inquired. Jensen looked up—and then tilted his head a little more. The voice belonged to a man who had to be six foot three, maybe six foot four, with dark hair curling around his ears and neck. He was smiling at Jensen, and that smile produced two of the most beautiful dimples Jensen had ever seen.

“Um...” he said suavely.

“Let me.” The tall man bent down and retrieved Jensen's keys, then unlocked his door for him, pushing it open and gesturing for him to enter.

“Thank you,” mumbled Jensen, semi-hypnotized by the man's eyes, which seemed to be a mix of blue , green, and brown. “Er, won't you come in?”

“No, no, thank you. You have your hands full.” The man winked. He shut Jensen's door and Jensen could hear his footfalls down the hall.

“Shit, I didn't get his name.”

Jensen and the new neighbor, as he turned out to be, bumped into each other a few times over the next couple of weeks. Mostly it was in the elevator, where Jensen learned his name was Jared and that he was newly arrived in the city. A couple of times it was at the mailbox, where Jensen tried to conceal his new issue of What's Brewing: Piping Hot Coffee News, feeling quite the nerd. Then he spied Jared's copy of Wired: Best New Games from Santa! and didn't feel quite as nerdy after all. Jared was always pleasant, smiling, ready for a moment of chitchat but not lingering beyond that.

On one occasion, Jensen ran into Jared at the fitness room behind the lobby. It wasn't all that great of a workout space, but it had a universal weights system, a bike, a couple of treadmills. Jensen preferred to use the better-equipped gym at work, but this was a good back-up during inclement weather or when he was on vacation. He went down in his t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off and the shorts that had had an unfortunate bleach incident, and there was Jared on the other side of the glass door, loping away on one of the treadmills.

Jensen stopped and stared.

He didn't really think of himself as a shallow person. Sure, he wasn't stopping to smell the roses all the time, or contemplating the vastness of space on a regular basis or anything. But he liked a person based on more than just the wrappings, while still appreciating said wrappings.

And damn, Jared had some top quality wrappings.

Jensen watched raptly as Jared's long legs, muscular but lean, churned on the treadmill. His hair was bouncing, except for the strands clinging to his face, which was damp with sweat. That dampness continued on down the handsome column of his neck and made his t-shirt, apparently too small already, stick to his body like a second skin. The tight, soaked jersey showed off the definition of Jared's shoulders and biceps, the thick muscles in his back, and clung to his nipples. The shirt was riding up as he ran, so Jensen got an eyeful of deep hip cuts, and a tempting trail of dark hair disappearing underneath his shorts.

Jensen thought about going in and working out with Jared, he really did. But his boner was about to rip its way out of his shorts, and he thought that might be difficult to explain, so instead he turned around, carefully keeping his towel in front of him, and went back to his apartment. He did think that if Mrs. Armbruster was in the elevator today, maybe he'd drop his towel 'accidentally' just for laughs. But she wasn't.

Christmas was only a couple of days away, but Jensen wasn't really feeling it. His family was all back in Texas, his friends had plans with their families, and, well, there you go. He'd hung a string of multi-color lights around his living room, but he'd skipped putting up a tree or stockings. The office was festively decorated enough, and so was everywhere else for that matter. He planned on having a nice steak and a bottle of wine, maybe get some delicious garlic mashed potatoes and roasted asparagus from the deli the next block over, watch “Scrooged” or “A Christmas Story” and open the gifts from his family.

Jensen returned from his holiday errand of posting his family's packages, shedding his gloves and coat in the cheery warmth of his apartment. Kicking off his shoes, Jensen thought he'd treat himself to a little nap as a reward for getting things done so briskly. He nestled on the couch, pulling his fleece Cowboys throw over his legs, and quickly drifted off.

The dream started prosaically enough. Jensen found himself sitting in a bar, nursing a bourbon and ginger, idly looking around at the gaudy decorations festooned everywhere, and the gaudier dancers on the stage. Christmas lights and sparkly tinsel garland bedecked the stage, and clearly the dancers were carrying out the Christmas theme. They seemed to be some kind of sexy elves, complete with little hats topped with white pompoms and fluffy white edging on their skimpy green and red costumes. Jensen was pretty sure that Santa would be scandalized to see his elves gyrate and grind like that though. Then the first top came off, revealing pert tits with gold star pasties, and yeah, that wouldn't fly at the North Pole.

He sighed and finished his drink, tapping the bar for another. Tits weren't really his thing, although he did aesthetically appreciate their fleshy attributes. Now if a strapping man-elf appeared, that would be another thing...

The music changed from “Santa Baby” to an upbeat version of “Jingle Bell Rock” and the half-naked girl elves headed off-stage, giggling and bouncing as they went. Applause heralded the next performer, who came onstage to be hit with the spotlight amid roars of approval. Jensen laughed out loud when he realized it was in fact Santa, complete in his red suit and white beard, strutting around the stage. “For real? This is a riot,” he said to the bartender, who laid a finger aside of his nose.

“Just wait!”

Jensen turned back to watch, feeling loose and easy from the drinks. Santa was gyrating around the stage, looking pretty spry. He reached up to the shoulders of his red suit and ripped them off, throwing the sleeves into the audience. Jensen noted that Santa's arms were pretty freakin' buff, and wondered what else was hiding under the baggy suit.

Santa flexed and posed in his now-sleeveless outfit, then ripped the rest of the jacket off. Howls of approval followed, and Jensen hurriedly slurped the rest of his drink. Santa's torso was bare except for red suspenders, and damn, Santa was cut. Ripped. Well-defined muscles were accented by dark chest hair, winding in a narrow trail under Santa's wide belt. Jensen wondered fuzzily if he would...

And he did. Santa, working his hips like a pro, whipped his belt off and tore his pants off. The crowd went wild, and Jensen about fell off his bar stool. Santa's legs were every bit as gorgeous as his upper body, and a mile long besides. The only thing he still wore was his beard, hat and boots. The boots went flying with a couple of ridiculously high kicks, demonstrating that Santa was flexible as well as built.

Jensen noticed that Santa still had bikini briefs on—tight red fabric covering his package and ass. He was really working those hips now, and as he pranced and turned, it was all Jensen could do to keep his tongue from hanging out. Santa's ass was _fine,_ two perfect, perky globes tucked up in that red excuse for underwear. The bartender looked quizzically at Jensen, and he realized perhaps he'd whimpered out loud.

Santa was working the red-and-white striped pole now, wrapping a long leg around it, arching back, swinging around it. He slapped his ass and then pulled the red brief off, leaving himself only covered by a silver G-string with a candy cane on it. He rotated and turned, running a seductive finger up the candy cane and then putting it in his mouth and sucking. Jensen had thought he couldn't get any harder than he already was by now, but he'd been wrong. The crowd was cheering and applauding, and Jensen saw a few others adjusting themselves, as he was desperate to do. His cock was like a steel bar inside his jeans, and he was seriously considering rubbing one out in the men's room, but he wanted to see the end of the show first.

Finally Santa tossed his hat into the crowd, and toyed with his beard before casting that away too. Jensen was distracted by trying to see who caught it, but when he turned back to the stage, he was stunned. 

Santa was Jared.

The number ended and Jared darted away behind the curtain. Jensen was totally flummoxed. He was crazy hard, turned on beyond belief, and Santa was Jared. He sat there, unable to figure out what to think, what with all the blood pooling in his groin.

One of the busty elves tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, noting that she had beautiful auburn hair and perfect breasts, the sparkly gold stars on her nipples winking as she moved and breathed.

“Santa has decided that you are a good little boy, and he'd like to meet you.” Her pretty mouth smiled roguishly, and her eyes flicked to the swelling in Jensen's jeans. “If you're interested, of course.”

He nodded dumbly and slid off his bar stool, following her through the crowd to the door backstage. It was appreciably quieter once they closed the door behind them.

“Uh...thanks,” Jensen mumbled. She chuckled.

“No problem, stud. Santa calls 'em like he sees 'em, and he saw you from onstage.” She stopped in front of another door. “Have fun!”

Her rap on the door was answered by a deep “Come in!” She patted Jensen's ass as she departed.

Jensen entered the room. It was clearly a dressing room, judging by the line of mirrors running along a long counter, which was covered with jars and tubes of makeup. A rolling rack crammed with costumes stood off to one side, and a couple of big, upholstered armchairs were on the other side. Tinsel garlands in all colors surround the mirrors, lending even this work-a-day space a festive air.

Santa—Jared--leaned against the counter. He was still clad only in his silver G-string, the red and white striped candy cane poking out stiffly. Jensen looked at it in puzzlement before comprehending that Jared had a massive erection and it was pushing the candy cane out at that acute angle. His own cock twitched in response.

Up close, Jared was twice as delicious as he'd appeared onstage. Jensen hadn't seen the moles drawing attention to his sharp features, the hard little nipples peeking out from his chest hair, his skin shiny with sweat from his dancing. Jared had a wicked smile on, a little bit sweet and a whole lot dirty, complete with deep-set dimples bracketing his mouth.

“I'm Jared,” that mouth said, lips all dark pink and stretched wide. “What's your name?”

“Jensen,” Jensen gasped out, thinking he was going to die of a strangulated dick. He reached out to shake hands. 

Jared grabbed his hand and pulled Jensen in, their bodies meeting full length with a faint smack. Jensen closed his eyes as he took in Jared's scent, musky and sweet at the same time...like sex and candy. His eyes popped back open when Jared kissed him, those lips swiftly possessing his mouth. He melted against Jared, his whole body relishing Jared's delectable firmness. When Jared pulled back, Jensen whimpered.

“So I may be a stripper, but I don't make a habit of fucking the customers. I saw you, though, and...well, here we are. You don't want to play, it's fine to walk back out that door. No harm, no foul. But if you do...” Jared pushed Jensen away and stood up, gracefully sliding the G-string off his magnificent hips and let it fall down those elegant legs. His cock stood up fat and hard, flushed dark against the rest of Jared's smooth tan skin. Jared languorously trailed a finger down his belly, traced out his length, circled the bulging mushroom head. “Well?”

Jensen wasn't sure how he was still standing, he felt so dizzy. Then suddenly he wasn't standing anymore; he was falling to his knees and opening his mouth, breathing that sex-and-candy scent in deeply as he enclosed the head of Jared's meaty cock with his lips.

“Mmmmm” he hummed, mouthing Jared's cock, feeling the weight of it in his mouth, his tongue sliding over the velvety smooth skin. He was aware of Jared's groan, but Jensen was focused now—he was going to give this splendid dick the best blow-job he could muster. He laved that cock, ran his tongue up and down and around it, ending each run with his lips sucking around the flared head, teasing the slit. Jensen could tell when Jared started leaking by the taste, going from the sweet, smooth skin flavor to a richer, saltier tang.

Jensen's cock was about to rip its way through his jeans, so he unzipped himself and gently eased it out, pushing his jeans and boxers down to mid-thigh. The air felt cool against his over-heated skin, making his balls tighten immediately. Even just kneeling there, it was bobbing and jumping, like a motion barometer measuring his arousal.

Jensen ignored his anxious dick and slid his hands up Jared's muscular thighs, letting them meet at Jared's crotch and massage the soft skin there. The dark happy trail ended in a desert, for Jared apparently waxed regularly. His skin was smooth as the proverbial baby's bottom, and Jensen teased all over it with his fingertips before running his hands over the large, heavy balls hanging heretofore ignored. They filled his hand, loose skin over firm shapes, and he played with them as he suckled, relishing how Jared quivered under his touch.

“Oh, god, stop! Dude, I wanna paint that pretty face so bad, but even more than that, I wanna fuck that pretty ass.” Jared helped Jensen stand, then turned them around so Jensen could brace his hands on the counter, pushing bits of makeup and jewelry aside. Jared fumbled in a drawer, and then Jensen could feel something cool against his hole, Jared's fingers gentle but sure as they rubbed him. One slick finger pushed into Jensen, thrusting in and out and making Jensen groan first with the resistance, then with pleasure.

Jared kissed the back of Jensen's neck while he kept fingering him, nibbling on Jensen's ears. One hand slid around to Jensen's chest and toyed with his nipples; Jensen felt that same cool slick on them and shivered at the startling sensation. He gasped at the alternating pinching and rubbing on his sensitive nubs, arching into Jared's hand while a second finger slid into his ass. Jensen smelled something minty, the refreshing scent both odd and relaxing, and Jared chuckled.

“It's Christmas—thought I'd try the peppermint lube.”

He pulled his fingers out of Jensen, who couldn't suppress a cry of protest, his ass now feeling empty and aching. Jared shushed him softly, rubbing those questing fingers around his hole again before bringing Jared's cock to bear. Jared rubbed the head of his dick on Jensen's hole, spreading even more of the cool, peppermint lube before leaning his weight onto Jensen, letting his body take it in naturally. Jensen's hole opened under the pressure, his inner muscles sucking in Jared's length slowly; Jared provided enough push to keep it moving until he was all the way in, and Jensen could feel those smooth, weighty balls against the cheeks of his ass.

“God, you're so perfect...gorgeous outside, tight as fuck inside.” Jared groaned. “Can I move, baby? You ready?”

Jensen's hands gripped the counter and he spread his feet a little wider. “Yeah, come on...fuck me, want you to.” He was already close; as soon as Jared had lodged inside him, filling him up so completely after all the teasing, Jensen's cock had started leaking steadily and his balls felt tight. He didn't think he was going to last long, but he planned to enjoy the ride.

“Well then, on Dasher and Dancer,” murmured Jared, and Jensen's chuckle turned into a cry of ecstasy as Jared withdrew and plunged in again. He set a hard pace, fucking deep and steady, those hips that gyrated so capably onstage turning out to be just as efficient at nailing Jensen's prostate and driving him crazy. He pushed his ass out, wanting everything he could get, and Jared delivered like Santa on Christmas morning, fucking harder, faster, and finally slapping his ass smartly as he thrust in. Jensen lost himself in peppermint-scented, mindless sensation, moaning in counterpoint to Jared's grunts, until Jared cried out “On Blitzen!” and Jensen yelled, spilling his own white Christmas all over the makeup counter, thick splotches amid the pancake and mascara.

Jared ground up hard against Jensen's ass, and it felt like Jensen's orgasm went on and on. He felt Jared's heat fill him, felt the pulsing of Jared's cock all throughout his channel, Jared's balls drawn up and twitching on his ass. Jared sagged over him, his chest resting on Jensen's back, his candy-sweet breath puffing at Jensen's ear. Jensen tried to hold him, but his orgasm-weakened knees buckled, and they manage to collapse to the floor without hurting themselves, Jared slipping out as they fell. Jensen was hot and sticky and sweaty, and it had been the best fuck of his life.

“Thank you,” mumbled Jensen, ready to pass out.

“Merry Christmas,” whispered Jared.

Jensen bolted awake, sitting up with his heart pounding. A sticky feeling, checked by a tentative finger, confirmed he'd just come in his boxers. He shook his head, confounded by the vividness of his dream. He knew it had been a while, but damn, that was a dream and a half. He ran a hand over his face, hoping he wouldn't feel too awkward the next time he saw Jared at the mailbox or in the elevator after perving on him so hard.

He got up to take a shower, wanting to clean up his mess, but a thump in the hallway drew him to the door. Jensen opened it and saw, of course, the object of his recent lust—Jared. Jared's arms were full of shopping bags and boxes, one of which he'd just dropped.

“Oh, hey! Sorry, man, hope I didn't disturb you. One of my packages got away from me.” Jared smiled brightly, and Jensen felt like a total skeeve for his dirty dream. He picked up Jared's package and handed it to him.

“No problem at all. You okay there?” Jensen asked, determined to be polite and offset his lust.

“Yeah, thanks, I got it. See you around, yes?” Jared winked and turned away, his tower of gifts swaying. A tiny gift bag at the top tumbled off behind his back.

Jensen picked it up, calling,”Oh, Jared--” 

But Jared had already whisked away around the corner, and when Jensen went over and looked down the hallway there, he had disappeared.

Jensen turned back to his own door, taking the little gift bag with him. “I can give it to him next time I see him,” he said to himself. He closed his door, eyeing the bag; unable to resist, he reached in to draw out the gift and see who it was for.

His breath caught and his eyes widened. Dangling from his finger was a shiny, silver G-string...with a candy cane on the front.


End file.
